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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144553">Day 21 - Hypothermia (temp title)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress8611/pseuds/Huntress8611'>Huntress8611</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(like specifically freezing to death because of past experiences), Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs a Hug, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Whump, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Day 21, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Fear of Death, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Medical Inaccuracies, Protective Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, also i did research it's just that i kinda suck at it, okay to be fair they're immortal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:36:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144553</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress8611/pseuds/Huntress8611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey Andy,” Booker mumbled, stumbling. “Think something’s wrong.”</p><p>“What the hell, Booker?” Andy asked, stopping. “Booker?”</p><p>He grabbed onto her arm, trying not to fall over. Something was definitely wrong, and it was familiar, too familiar.</p><p>“Too cold.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy | Andromache &amp; Booker | Sebastien le Livre &amp; Joe | Yusuf al-Kaysani &amp; Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Andy | Andromache of Scythia &amp; Booker | Sebastien le Livre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Day 21 - Hypothermia (temp title)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title of this work is from the song _______________.</p><p>This work fills the prompt for Whumptober: Day 21: Hypothermia.</p><p>TWs: hypothermia, mentions of previously freezing to death</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Fucking hate the cold,” Booker grumbled as they all trudged through the snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was absolutely freezing, and he hated the cold. He’d frozen to death a few too many times to appreciate it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Andy grumbled, slowing down a bit so that he could catch up. “Can’t believe the fucking car got stuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can,” Yusuf muttered, pressing closer to Nicolo, trying to keep warm. “We’re in the middle of nowhere Russia, during the winter. It would’ve been a miracle if the car </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> get stuck. It would’ve frozen even if it wasn’t for all the damn snow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least we have a safehouse near here,” Nicolo said, trying to lighten the mood a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Andy,” Booker mumbled, stumbling. “Think something’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell, Booker?” Andy asked, stopping. “Booker?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed onto her arm, trying not to fall over. Something was definitely wrong, and it was familiar, too familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too cold,” he slurred, and once she was looking for it, she could see how hard he was shivering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled a glove off with her teeth and wrapped her hand around his wrist, under his jacket where it should have been at least somewhat warm, but he was freezing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys, guys we got a problem!” Andy shouted, and Yusuf and Nicolo quickly spun around and went over to them, hearing the concern in Andy’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Nicolo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s freezing. Probably getting close to hypothermic, if he isn’t already,” she replied as she shrugged off one of her outer coats, wrapping it around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely hypothermic,” Booker managed to say, somehow forcing the words past his frozen lips. “Froze to death a lot, this- it’s definitely- definitely too cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit. Okay, how far is the safe house?” Yusuf asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved to stand behind Booker to keep him from falling over, and Nicolo went to the side opposite Andy, wrapping an arm around him. It wouldn’t do him any good to fall in the snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too far,” she said after a moment. “We’ll make it, he might not. It’ll be close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was confused, but present enough to understand what that meant. He tried and failed to muffle a whimper. There wasn’t much he was afraid of, as an immortal, but freezing to death, or just becoming hypothermic? Well, that was something he was absolutely terrified of. It wasn’t his first death, but at least a dozen deaths after that were from the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy pulled the coat around him tighter when she heard him whimper, and pressed her forehead against his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna be okay,” she said. “We won’t leave you here, or alone. Trust us. We’ll make sure you get back to the safehouse with us, one way or another.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, and she pulled away before grabbing one of his arms and pulling it over her shoulder, Nicolo doing the same on his other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuf went ahead of them a bit, keeping an eye out for the safehouse, and Andy and Nicolo moved as quickly as they could, with them practically having to carry Booker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that far, but it was still too long. If they’d taken maybe 10 more minutes, he would have definitely died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second they stepped inside, Yusuf ran to find blankets and Nicolo to get some hot water bottles. Andy guided him down onto the nearest bed and began to pull off his jackets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was fairly out of it, but he still tried to grab onto Andy’s arms, trying to stop her, and she sighed, but stopped. It could wait for the two minutes it would take Nicolo to get the hot water bottles. In the meantime, she pulled off her own coat, shivering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, Nicolo rushed in a few minutes later and Andy grabbed one of the bottles, tucking it inside Booker’s jacket before trying again to pull off his jackets, which were all practically frozen stiff. This time she didn’t let him stop her, and once the coats were gone, she sat behind him, leaning up against the headboard, wrapping her arms tightly around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicolo placed the repairing few heating packs up against his side, cursing the fact that they only had three at this safehouse. Yusuf came into the room holding a stack of blankets and he and Nicolo quickly began pulling them on top of Booker and Andy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy tightened her arms around him and Yusuf and Nicolo both climbed in next to them on opposite sides of the bed, pressing up against Booker’s side to try and help warm him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was still shivering uncontrollably, but now he seemed slightly more alert, and was tightly holding the hot water bottle against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better?” she asked, moving a hand up to cradle his head to her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little bit,” he mumbled, his words still slurring together. “Fucking cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to get you a better jacket,” Yusuf said. “I don’t understand how you’re this cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or, hear me out,” he managed. “We just never come back to Russia. I don’t like Russia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy laughed. “Yeah, that’s fair,” she said. “You have plenty of reasons to dislike Russia. Joe’s right, though. If we have to come here again, we’re getting you a better jacket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s gonna be the next thing on our to-do list,” Nicolo said. “‘Get Booker a new jacket.’”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And I have proved yet again that I’m incapable of properly ending a story.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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